


Flavor of Magic

by runicmagitek



Category: Final Fantasy VI
Genre: F/M, Pre-Canon, Rough Sex, Valentine's Day Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2015-02-14
Packaged: 2018-03-12 09:30:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3351692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thought of not having Terra at all drives Kefka further into madness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flavor of Magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Winter_Poppy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winter_Poppy/gifts).



They wanted to take her away from him.

Perhaps those exact words were never uttered within the research facility, but Kefka wasn’t an idiot. What Cid spoke of with him and Leo about Terra’s lack of progress and sheer unwillingness for cooperation meant little options remained. Either the girl was forced into submission or she was to be disposed of, just like the failed Espers within their test tubes.

He couldn’t let them. They would never lay a damn finger on her. All of Vector would burn in searing flames before Terra was taken away.

His precious little doll. _His_ … always his.

The shock transformed into fuming rage, one he barely contained while leaving the facility. He intended to take the lift up alone, the solitude the only time he could scream and pound clenched fists into the metal walls. Before the doors closed, a small figure bolted in.

She wasn’t suppose to be here. She was suppose to be training elsewhere. He couldn’t afford to allow her to catch a glimpse of him in such a vulnerable state.

It would take far more to deter Terra now. “Kefka? What’s wrong?”

He had cowered in a corner, nails daring to draw blood from his palms as he sucked in air. The silence only perked her curiosity and drew her closer.

“Is everything alright?”

Alright? _Alright?_

Soft fingertips hovered over his arm. She meant to comfort him. Kefka knew that much. And yet such an innocent, docile act snapped every remaining nerve that maintained his composure.

Soon her back crashed into the wall with her wrists trapped in his clutches. Half of a gasp fluttered out of her, the remainder silenced by a hard, raw kiss. It never occurred to Kefka to slow down or act otherwise. He simply opened his mouth into hers, a quiet plead to taste her, even just once and never again.

And those feeble lips gradually parted for him and her silky hands held onto his form.

Terra tasted like magic. Hot, delicious, throbbing, wet magic. An intoxicating high that exceeded every expectation of his.

The mixture of rage and lust blinded him. One minute they locked onto one another in the lift and the next minute fabric ripped from Terra’s body as Kefka threw her onto the mattress.

This wasn’t romance. Whatever the bards sang of or the poets wrote of, it wasn’t this. Gentle kisses and subtle caresses, like a perfect rose in bloom. But they were the thorns on the intertwining vines, welcoming anyone who dared to extend a hand. It was what Kefka always wanted, anyways, and from the way Terra tossed her head about in an attempt to contain herself, he knew what she wanted, as well.

It was in the way she wrapped her legs around him, the way she bit down on his shoulder, the way she arched her back into him, the way she clawed up his back, the way she filled the room with sweet, decadent moans. Every little subtlety had Kefka desiring nothing more than to coax it out of her again, just to see what she’d do now. A rough tongue on her neck, a relentless hand on her breast. She was full of surprises. Delightful, little surprises.

She still tasted like magic. Every damn inch of her. Like the fire she commanded, the very fire that consumed the two of them. Kefka wouldn’t have blinked if she embraced him with those merciless flames, just long long as she never let go.

And she never did let go, nor did he stop pumping into her. Not until their throats were rubbed raw and every tight muscle broke loose, forcing them to come completely undone and collapse.

Kefka never slept that night, even with Terra beside him. He traced the slight curve of her spine while she slept.

“They will never have you,” he whispered to himself. “I will control you myself before they ever have their way with you.”


End file.
